Alistair Hawke
by Mazanti
Summary: What if Leandra and Malcolm Hawke ran into Fiona and Duncan ... all en route to Ferelden? What if Alistair turned out to be a mage, along with Bethany? Thanks to BioWare for creating a wonderful world to play "what if" in! All belongs to them!
1. A Twist of Fate

**A Twist of Fate**

 _Varric hated being interrogated. Well, that wasn't true all the time. It could be fun if the interrogator had any sense of what was humorous. Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast had none._

 _"_ _I want the truth, Varric … not the fabrications in that book!" Okay, maybe Varric had frustrated her just a bit — enough for her to stab a copy of "The Champion of Kirkwall" while it was still in his lap._

 _"_ _What do you want to know?"_

 _"_ _How did the Champion end up in Kirkwall? Where did he live in Ferelden?" the Seeker threw up her hands. "Where did he come from? You infer that he had royal blood in him. From where?"_

 _"_ _I swore I'd keep his secret."_

 _"_ _And, I swear I'll be discreet." She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, but then sighed when Varric looked around at the Seeker guards. With a slight motion of her head, they left. "Start with where he was born."_

 _"_ _Right. The beginning. I gotta warn ya' that I wasn't around at the real beginning, but I'll tell you what I was told." Varric cleared his throat. This was going to be one long bout of storytelling. "It begin here in Kirkwall, actually, with a serendipitous twist of fate …"_

* * *

The Kirkwall harbormaster announced that the ship _Fairsky_ was about to depart. The _Fairsky_ was bound for Denerim with a stopover at Ferelden's northwest port of Highever. One of the passengers was Fiona, an Orlesian elf mage Grey Warden _and_ a new mother. She was there in Kirkwall with her traveling companion, Duncan, a Grey Warden about to be stationed in Ferelden. Duncan had taken a short leave to help his friend get her affairs settled. Fiona felt that she was soon to be an ex-Warden. Something about a run-in with a talking darkspawn who experimented on her and took away the taint in her blood. No taint in her blood meant she was no longer a Warden but, since she was also a mage, she couldn't keep a baby. She was going to Ferelden so she could "hand over" the baby to his father.

Well, that day was warm and humid. The only child in the group was the one in Fiona's arms, but there was a pregnant woman nearby. Fiona recognized the man with her.

After shifting the babe in her arms, Fiona nodded toward the man with his arm supporting the pregnant woman. She whispered to Duncan, "He was the apostate who strengthened the wards in the Vimmarks. We stopped over at the warden prison on our way back to Orlais. I overheard that bastard Larius bragging about forcing him to cooperate by keeping his wife hostage." Fiona could feel the flush of anger show on her face.

Duncan was very skilled at looking around without seeming to look around. "With all the Templars on every street corner here in Kirkwall, I can understand why he would wish to leave."

"How can you stay with with the Grey Wardens, Duncan?! I know you are a better man than that!" Fiona turned her head. "Larius threatened an innocent woman to get his way."

"Whatever it takes, Fiona." Duncan shrugged. "It would not have been my way of going about things, but the wards were failing and it had to be a descendent of Magister Relius Accipiter. Duncan's warm smile at Fiona's young son was enough to stop the elf mage from railing on. "I stay in the Order to make it better."

Before Fiona could begin again on her thoughts about that, Hawke's wife doubled over with a cry. The growing pool of liquid around the woman's feet told Fiona all she needed to know. The woman was going to give birth right there on the docks of Kirkwall. Fiona wasn't a healing mage, but she had just been through childbirth. She knew what needed to be done.

"Stand aside! Give the poor woman some room!" Fiona shouted as she handed off her own child to Duncan. She pointed to a man unlashing a canvas tarp from some crates. "You! Give these men that canvas." She turned to the crowd nearby. "You! Hold it over her so she can get some shade."

By that time, the woman had already slumped to the ground with her husband holding her as best he could. "It's too soon," the woman cried, her eyes wild with fear.

Ultimately, that statement proved true. Their boy was stillborn and the parents, Malcolm and Leandra Hawke, were both heartbroken. As Fiona swaddled the infant, Malcolm glared at Fiona. "If I'd noticed your tabard sooner, Warden, I wouldn't have let you touch Leandra."

Duncan, still holding Fiona's baby, crouched down next to the man. He said quietly, "If Fiona hadn't aided her, you would have likely lost them both and you know it."

"All aboard!"

Fiona thanked the Maker that the announcement … as well as discomfort at the confrontation … caused the crowd to rapidly shuffle away. With tears in her eyes, Fiona handed the tiny unmoving bundle to Leandra. "Maker take him to His side."

"Can you stand, Leandra?" Malcolm asked. Without waiting for an answer, he picked her up. "I'm sorry, Warden. That was uncharitable of me." The unshed tears he'd been trying to hide from Leandra ran down his cheeks.

Duncan handed Fiona's baby back to her and picked up Leandra's bags. "We can help you get settled on board."

Fiona looked down at her young son and then at the young couple on their way to leave Kirkwall for Ferelden. She had planned to give Alistair to his father who was in Ferelden, but suddenly felt the Maker was showing her a different path. Not that she was all that religious. She felt a twinge of regret that King Maric would never know he had another son, but Fiona hadn't really wanted Alistair to be given into royalty anyway.

* * *

 _"_ _This is the royalty you meant? King Maric?! The Champion is the bastard son of King Maric?!" Cassandra paced and fumed, putting her hands on her head or her hips in rapid succession. "He's … he's the last Theirin?!"_

 _"_ _The more you interrupt me, Seeker, the longer it'll take." Maybe Varric would enjoy this interrogation after all._

 _"_ _Fine, continue." The huff of breath as she crossed her arms almost made Varric laugh … but he continued …_

* * *

Fiona followed Duncan, Malcolm and Leandra onto the ship. The captain was a kindly man. It was decided to send the stillborn boy to the Maker sooner rather than later. The Captain couldn't delay departure, but he and a Revered Mother en route to Highever arranged a tiny funeral pyre for the stillborn as they slowly left the harbor. Quite a few passengers stayed on the deck with the parents. The small body turned to ash quickly and, as they began to build up speed and turn out into the Waking Sea, the ashes were gathered and given to Malcolm and Leandra.

The _Fairsky_ wasn't a luxury ship, but it had a few comforts. Fiona and Duncan had secured a very small private room, which they gave to the devastated Hawkes. After a moment's hesitation, Fiona handed Alistair to Leandra while she helped Malcolm stow away their things.

After pushing as much as she could into the narrow closet, Fiona turned toward the berth and saw Leandra's face. The woman was smiling and gently speaking to Alistair. Fiona gave Duncan a knowing look and he nodded in return. Duncan had also noticed.

Fiona knelt next to the berth. "His name is Alistair." After a brief smile, Fiona added, "I was heading to Ferelden to give him to his father, but I've never been certain that was the best thing for Alistair. You see, I cannot keep him. I shall be going back to Weisshaupt, the Warden fortress. I won't bore you with the details, but I am no longer a Warden … and they want to know why. That degree of interrogation and testing is no place for a child."

Leandra's face scrunched in dismay. "That's horrible! You could come live with us!"

Malcolm smiled and kissed his wife on the top of her head. "If Leandra says it would be all right for you to come with us, Fiona, then it is all right with me." Fiona did not miss the challenge in Malcolm's gaze. He would not allow his wife to come to harm. If he was a powerful enough mage to strengthen the seals on the warden prison of an ancient darkspawn, then Fiona knew he would be powerful enough to make good on that challenge.

Fiona felt tears sting the corner of her eyes. She had no idea it would be this hard. She felt Duncan put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Let us think about it during the voyage and perhaps Fiona will do that very thing." After a small squeeze of assurance, Duncan lifted Alistair out of Leandra's hesitant arms. "We should get settled ourselves and allow you some time to rest. The voyage to Highever will take several days. It should give us time to become better acquainted."

Duncan found a corner of the common room where they could have a bit of privacy. In reality, a couple with a crying baby would garner a wide berth, regardless, so privacy was easily attained. Fortunately, the common room wasn't that full.

Once their own goods had been stowed into chests and locked away, Duncan sighed and sat on the hammock across from Fiona. "Am I right that you intend to give him to a couple you barely know?"

Fiona sharply glared at Duncan. "About as well as I know Maric," she whispered. "Think Duncan. What will Maric do with Alistair? Will he honor my request to keep him out of the nobility?"

"I don't know, Fiona, but he _is_ Alistair's father. It seems like he has a right to know he has another son … for good or ill." Duncan dropped his voice even lower. "And, I will have an easier job keeping my eye on him through Maric than having to keep track of an apostate and his wife around Ferelden. What if Alistair turns out to be a mage?"

"Malcolm is … was … a Senior Enchanter at the Kirkwall Circle. He can train Alistair. He'd probably do a better job training Alistair than the Ferelden Circle." She shuddered.

Duncan didn't argue further. He only smiled and patted Fiona's shoulder. "I'll go look around the ship and see if I can find some food for us."

* * *

 _"_ _Without going into boring details, Seeker, that's the beginning. As you could probably guess, Fiona gave Alistair to Leandra and Malcolm Hawke and they raised him as their own. In a couple years, they did have their own children: the twins Carver and Bethany. Alistair and Bethany turned out to be mages and did receive proper training from their father … before Malcolm died from pneumonia one particularly harsh Ferelden winter." Varric reached over to take a long drink of ale. At least, he wasn't being tortured … yet._

 _"_ _Maker." Cassandra whispered. "So, the Champion is the son of King Maric? And … no one knows this outside the Hawke family … and you?"_

 _"_ _Eh, not exactly." He frowned. "Duncan's conscience wouldn't let him keep Maric in the dark about another son. Besides, had you ever seen Maric?"_

 _"_ _No. Does Alistair look like him?"_

 _"_ _He has some features of Cailan. When he was younger, he had long hair. Older people noticed the resemblance to Maric. There were snickers and rumors. That's why he keeps it so short now. Even so. Take a look at the portrait in the Viscount's keep. The resemblance is still there." Varric shrugged as he put down the now empty mug of ale. "Anyway, Duncan told Maric and that royally pissed off Fiona._

 _"_ _Ironically, since he also turned out to have a mage son, Arl Eamon was sent to Lothering to quietly check up on Alistair. He convinced Maric that the boy was getting a good upbringing in a loving home. That's when they all decided Alistair would be told the truth on his twentieth birthday._

 _"_ _So, by the time of his twentieth birthday, lots of people knew. The Chantry in Lothering was informed of their royal mage charge and First Enchanter Irving visited from time to time. Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir insisted that Alistair undergo his Harrowing. Malcolm insisted it be conducted at their house in Lothering. When Alistair passed in record time, Greagoir thought they had botched it somehow." Varric laughed. "Alistair told me that he was sworn to secrecy so I don't have any juicy tidbits. He explained exactly what happened in the Fade and Greagoir backed down. Of course, since he's now Champion of Kirkwall, and a mage, there's little chance they'll bring up his claim to the throne."_

 _"_ _A mage could not be a king, but still …" The Seeker actually looked sad. She didn't need to keep up her steel balls act since the guards were gone and they were alone. "Wait … the Chantry in Lothering right before the Blight?"_

 _"_ _Yeah, Sister Nightingale was Sister Leliana back then. She was friends with Alistair." When Varric noticed the Seeker's face reddening, he added, "I guess she forgot to mention that?"_

 _"_ _No, she did not mention that." Cassandra sighed and leaned against a desk. "The truth of the Champion's tale is not what I had assumed. It's all so tragic."_

 _Varric almost laughed again, but kept quiet. Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast had emotions! Varric would bet his last royal she was a romantic, too. Damn. Romance wasn't his strong suit. He only smiled. The Champion had a well-developed sense of humor which he blamed on his father. "Alistair is anything but a tragic character, Seeker. In fact, some of his stories almost rival mine. Almost. Even after … you know …"_

 _The Seeker snapped out of her reverie and waved her hand. "So, move ahead to what brought the Champion to back to Kirkwall."_

 _Varric held up his empty mug. "I'll need a refill or ten for that …"_

* * *

 **AN:** Okay, here's the crazy idea I've been throwing up in the air and seeing how it would fall out … also, it makes DA2 a bit more fun to run through. Canon? Eh, not so much. Just another AU of my quirky mind. ;) As always, any reviews, follows or favorites are greatly appreciated!


	2. It Began in Lothering

**It Began in Lothering**

Alistair had just turned twenty and he found himself walking around the village of Lothering in Ferelden. He'd had a party. He had cake. He had presents.

He had a shock.

He found out that he'd been adopted. He found out about his blood parents … and now he knew why he'd been getting preferential treatment from the Chantry and the Ferelden Circle.

And, it really wasn't because of his good looks.

The entire country seemed to know what he just found out. _Isn't that always the way?_ he thought to himself. _Just when you start to think you're pretty smart, you find out you're the most ignorant person around._

After hearing about the people responsible for his birth, Alistair had gotten up from the table, politely excused himself and left his party. He took a flask of brandy and a handful of cheese cubes with him … all consumed in minutes.

Outside on the Hawke's porch, he walked past a group of warden recruits who had been traveling with Duncan. They didn't say anything, but one of them did a double-take. He'd probably seen a painting of Maric's somewhere. He looked to be Alistair's age. Maybe they told _him._ "Yes, yes, Maric did have a bastard. We're not telling the bastard, though."

And, Alistair's little brother had missed the perfect opportunity to give him shit about it. Carver joined the army. Teryn Loghain and King Cailan came through Lothering on their way to Ostagar. Cailan gave a rousing talk that everyone cheered but no one took seriously. Loghain spoke plainly and garnered quite a few soldier recruits for the cause … Carver among them.

Leandra Hawke didn't want her youngest son to go off to war, but Alistair took Carver's side. No one was more shocked than Carver to hear his big brother agree with him. Carver was eighteen and a man … and had been training very hard with Ser Bryant, the Knight-Commander at the Chantry in Lothering, as well as some of the best militiamen in the area. He would make a good soldier … as long as he kept his opinions to himself. More importantly, this wasn't just "war". It was a potential Blight that would destroy the world if not stopped early. If Alistair didn't feel that he needed to stay home to protect his mother and sister, he would have been one of the first to volunteer.

But, to get back to _that_ day … maybe "party" was the wrong word to describe the gathering at the Hawke residence. Alistair was, at first, pleasantly surprised when "Uncle" Duncan came to the party. He stopped by from time to time while Alistair was growing up. His parents … and, yes, Alistair still considered the Hawkes to be his parents … told the children that Duncan was an old friend of theirs. The Warden-Commander never came empty-handed. He always brought presents and sweets … and sometimes, Heartland cheese from Orlais. Today, Duncan's "present" was to be around to confirm what Leandra told Alistair: that Fiona, an Orlesian elf mage — once Grey Warden — now the Grand Enchanter in Cumberland, was his blood mother.

Also, Duncan confirmed that King Maric _was_ his blood father.

Alistair stopped atop the bridge before the Chantry when a thought hit him square in the face. _Duncan had been in the Deep Roads with them … when … when …_

Since Alistair was ten or so, everyone kidded him about being a bastard of Maric's. He supposedly looked like the old king. But … to find out it was true. His mother confirmed that some of the Ferelden nobility … including his half-brother, the king, and Teryn Loghain … knew Alistair's … or rather, Maric's … dirty little secret. He looked around and didn't realize he'd walked directly to the Chantry. It seemed his navigational sense, as well as his thoughts, were jumbled up and askew.

Or, maybe not.

He knew why he ended up at the Chantry. One of his best friends was there. He had become increasingly close to Sister Leliana. He had to pray to the Maker to ask forgiveness for his thoughts … about a Sister in the Chantry. She was beautiful and worldly and thoughtful and beautiful. He admonished himself, _Guess I already said … thought … that._

But, he didn't make it through the heavy double-door to the Chantry. Ser Bryant was just exiting with Ser Irminric, the Templar who stood vigil over Alistair during his Harrowing … and a friend. "Alistair! We were just coming to talk to you."

Alistair chuckled. "Um, sorry. They already told me. I was just coming here to get my thoughts straight."

Bryant and Irminric gave each other a questioning look. After a few moments, the light dawned on Bryant. "Ah, your twentieth." When Irminric still looked confused, Bryant explained. "Alistair was to be told … about things … on his twentieth birthday."

To his credit, Irminric mirrored Alistair's feelings perfectly. He was horrified and frightened, but his words were appreciated. "It really makes no difference to the man you've become, Alistair. The Maker put you on this path and will always watch over you." Then, he smiled, "As will we."

That made Alistair smile. He'd heard about mages' complaints with the Circle … much of which was justified in Alistair's mind … but these two Templars were good men. Things were seldom as black and white as people made them out to be. After all, it had been a Templar who helped his father escape from Kirkwall's oppressive Circle: Ser Maurevar Carver, his little brother's namesake. If mages didn't want to be all painted with the same stroke, they would need to learn to do the same with Templars. That was the way Malcolm Hawke taught his children.

Of course, maybe it was that way because the Hawkes were raising a bastard of Maric's. Alistair now realized that mage children of other families likely saw the more black and white treatment.

"So, if not the 'things', what were you coming to talk to me about?" Alistair asked.

Irminric took a deep breath. "Let's find someplace private. The Chantry is already filling with refugees from the south."

"Already?" Alistair frowned. "Is the fighting close?"

"No, rumors mostly at this point. It seems the wardens and King's soldiers are holding the line." Bryant motioned that they should head to the stables. "However, if I had a farmhold near Ostagar, I'd be moving my family."

Alistair felt a bit of alarm creep up. "Perhaps we should be ready to leave, too."

"Not a bad idea to be prepared. However, today's trip shouldn't take too long. A half day at the most." Bryant nodded toward three horses already saddled at the rear of the stables. "We can tell you more along the way."

A mage had escaped the Circle and used blood magic to do it. Duncan had been there and got a new warden recruit out of the deal — once a friend of the blood mage. Irminric had been surprised that an Initiate had "fallen in love" with the blood mage. Greagoir insisted that the Initiate had her own mind, so she was sent to Aeonar, a mysterious mage prison somewhere in the north. Anyway, Irminric thought Alistair might be able to talk to this young mage and avoid any violence.

They stopped by the Hawke residence en route. Alistair went inside to grab his enchanted sword and let his mother know where he was going … and make apologies for his quick exit earlier. Alistair was disappointed that Duncan had already left for Ostagar with his new recruits. He'd just have to apologize to him later.

Within a few minutes, he left with Bryant and Irminric. True to his word, within the hour, Bryant indicated the small farmhouse where the apostate had been reported to be hiding out.

Alistair went first and knocked on the door. Irminric and Bryant had stationed themselves around the corner of the front porch. Alistair was surprised when a frightened, disheveled young man actually opened the door. "Hello, my name is Alistair … um, are you all right?"

"Not really. Would you like to come in? My name is Jowan."

"If you don't mind. It _is_ a bit warm out today." Alistair stepped into a farmhouse that looked like it was just waiting for the farmers to come home for supper … only, the hearth was cold and there was no one cooking supper. "Are you here alone? Where are the farmhol…"

Alistair didn't get out the end of the question because the boy locked him with a paralyze glyph. It was a rookie mistake on Alistair's part, but a temporary one. As Jowan was going for a knife to cut his hand, Bryant's cleanse ability released the glyph and Irminric's smite put both mages on the floor of the small house. Irminric ran in to put enchanted manacles on Jowan while Alistair sat there and rubbed his temples. "I really wish you two would let me handle things just a bit longer."

"You're a free mage and you're helping them?! Traitor!" Jowan was livid and wide-eyed.

Irminric was about to hit them with another smite when Bryant stopped him. Bryant picked up a napkin from the cupboard, poured a sleeping draught on it and held it over Jowan's mouth. "No need to hit Alistair again." Soon, the young mage was incapacitated and in Irminric's custody — no magic or smiting required. Irminric and his charge headed north to the Circle while Bryant and Alistair headed back to Lothering.

"He's going to be made Tranquil, isn't he?" Alistair fairly well growled that question.

"If only he hadn't used blood magic …" Bryant began.

"It wouldn't have made any difference. If he was already being helped to escape, Jowan knew he was going to be made Tranquil." Alistair took a deep breath. Tranquility. The Templar answer to too many situations. Blood magic. Too often, a mage's answer to treatment in the Circle. He glared at Bryant. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I believe that was the situation, yes." Bryant stopped his horse. "Do you really think you could have done better?"

It was an odd question from a Templar, but Ser Bryant was an unusual Templar. "Yes. Absolutely. The glyph from an apprentice wouldn't have lasted long enough for him to cut himself before I could lock him in stone. And, my spell would last long enough for me to talk him down." Alistair started his horse toward home again. "Irminric is a good man but he's much too quick to believe rumor without any facts. What if this Initiate were complicit? What if she were acting under orders from some of the more extreme Templars at Kinloch … and you know there have been quite a few lately."

Bryant caught up to Alistair. He was frowning. "Greagoir sent three disagreeable Templars away just last week." His frown deepened. "Alistair, you know I do what I can, but perhaps it is a good time for you and your family to move on … for more reasons than the darkspawn … some Chantry folks are getting nervous with you and Bethany freely walking around Lothering."

Alistair took a deep breath. "If I find out who told Ceorlic that we were mages, they had better be ready for a long conversation." Alistair and Bethany were well-liked in Lothering … until Bann Ceorlic started complaining about Lothering becoming a haven for "hundreds" of unchecked apostates … and just that day Alistair found out the real reason King Cailan had stepped in to quiet Ceorlic: Alistair, the king's half brother, was one of those apostates.

"It was inevitable, Alistair, and the King's influence only goes so far. Sadly, I know you and your family are no strangers to moving." Bryant looked sincerely concerned. "For what it's worth, I shall miss your friendship."

Over the next few weeks, while the Hawkes began to get ready to move on, news got increasingly dire for the villagers of Lothering. Finally, the rumors became fact. Alistair ran back to the Hawke residence with the news just announced by Teryn Loghain in the square. He didn't even stay for the entire announcement. "Mother, Bethany … we need leave."

"Not without Carver!" Leandra's hands were shaking as she mercilessly wrung the towel she was holding.

Alistair wasn't without sympathy. In fact, he could feel the moisture in his own eyes. He motioned to the table and pulled out a chair for his mother. Bethany sat next to her mother and took her hand. Alistair sighed. "Mother, Teryn Loghain just announced that Ostagar is lost. The Grey Wardens underestimated the horde. They were overrun. The Teryn pulled his men out at the last moment."

"But, there had to be survivors!" Bethany jumped up and started pacing. "Maybe Carver got away before … the end." She shook her head. "No. No, I would feel it if Carver were gone."

After kneeling in front of his mother, Alistair added, "Mother, this isn't a bunch of Orlesian fops heading this way. These are monsters."

The front door opened. They were all relieved to see Carver standing there. He was dirty, a little bloody, but very much alive. "For once, Alistair isn't overstating it, Mother. We need to leave immediately."

Alistair stood aside while his mother and sister fussed over Carver. For the first time in his life, he felt like a stranger in his own home. The people he'd grown up with, argued with and loved weren't really his blood family … but he still loved them like one. And, he always would.

While Leandra berated Carver for not eating, Bethany stepped up to Alistair and whispered, "I know what's going through your mind and you need to stop that thinking right now."

"Mind reading now?" Alistair asked with a sad smirk. He used to think that his intuition and Bethany's were "family" traits.

"So, what has big brother all moody now?" Carver fairly hollered from the table in between bites of stew.

Bethany punched Carver in the arm. "Just eat … then, take a bath. The rest of us will finish packing so we can load the wagon in the morning and leave." Bethany always was the family supervisor when it came to situations like that.

While Alistair was helping Leandra decide what, if any, of the kitchen things to pack, Bethany must have told Carver. From the back room of their small house, everyone within a mile must have heard Carver shout, "He's a bloody king now!"

Alistair took a deep breath and his mother gave him a firm hug. "He'll pipe down, Alistair."

"Where are we going to go, Mother?" It was a question that had been bothering Alistair. The half-brother he'd never met — only ever saw from afar — was dead. The country was without a king … and without any wardens, if Loghain's report was true. "Maker, King Cailan and Duncan dead. A horde of darkspawn heading north."

Apparently, it had been a question Leandra had been asking herself as well. "We can go to Kirkwall."

Bethany walked into the kitchen at that moment. "Kirkwall?! There are a lot of Templars in Kirkwall, Mother."

Almost concurrently, Alistair added, "Well … that wouldn't be my first choice."

But, Leandra wasn't put off the idea. "We have family there. The Amells are well-respected."

Carver walked in carrying two large, bulging bags, not missing the opportunity to shoot Alistair a glare. "Uncle Gamlen hasn't written us in months, Mother, and that last letter was pretty short: 'I'm fine. — Gamlen'"

"I know, Carver. I'm sure he's a busy man, running the family estate and all," Leandra explained. Alistair loved his mother with no reservations … but she could put blinders on when it came to her brother.

A brief knock on the door preceded Leliana entering the home. "Good. You're ready to go." She walked up to Alistair and put her hands on his shoulders. "Ser Bryant just told me that Loghain is looking to lock you up. You all need to leave right now."

"Lock Alistair up?! What for? Loghain's the one who should be locked up!" Carver was vehement. Alistair was touched that his little brother picked up his sword and went to stand between Alistair and the door. "Loghain's a deserter and traitor to Ferelden. He's gone out of his mind."

Leliana nodded. "I agree from what I've heard."

Alistair hugged Leliana, tired of proprieties. "You could come with us." He knew she hadn't taken vows. She could leave the Chantry if she wished.

She pulled out of the hug and smiled up at Alistair. "I can't. I … I have another path." Then, she looked at the rest of the family. "I know you are all going to think I am insane, but last night, I had a vision … from the Maker. I was on a hill and all around was darkness. I jumped down into the darkness."

After a moment and a deep breath to fill the silence in the room, she added, "Some of the new warden recruits survived Ostagar. They just arrived in Lothering with an apostate from the Wilds whose mother healed them." She took Alistair's hand. "I mean to … jump down into the darkness … to go with them to fight the darkspawn. I believe the Maker has set me on this path." She squeezed his hand. "You have your own path to travel. It is much too dangerous for you to stay in Ferelden right now."

Bethany explained the plan and Leliana thought it was a good one: hide in a place no one would think two apostates would go to willingly. "Don't make yourselves too widely known."

Carver snickered. "Here that, Alistair? You have to stop being a big hero."

Alistair just sighed and shook his head. "Maybe I should go off …"

Bethany, Leandra, Leliana … even Carver … said, "No!"

"Look, I know you and I have our differences, Alistair … and I know you've got this royal blood now … but you're still my big brother. You stay with us." Carver's words were punctuated by his steely, but sincere, gaze. Then he laughed. "Now, I can call you a royal bastard and it's not swearing."

"Carver!" both Leandra and Bethany said.

After a bit more discussion and planning and packing, there was another knock at the door. It had to be sometime after midnight, so Carver picked up his sword again … but he didn't need it.

This time it was one of the new warden recruits — the one who seemed to recognize Alistair. "Good … uh … I guess that would be morning by now. I'm Devon Cousland." He looked at Alistair. "And, in a better world, I'd be bending knee and calling you, 'Your Majesty'; however, _now_ , we all need to leave. Loghain left some of his men in town. Loghain's put a bounty on me, Ariel, Daldain and Taosen." A bark behind Devon made him smile. "And Dancer, my mabari. But, the bounty on Alistair Theirin Hawke is larger … a lot larger."

Leandra explained the decision to go to Kirkwall. Devon said that the northern ports were either unavailable or too dangerous. They all agreed Gwaren — even though it was the home of Loghain — would be the safest port to use. Loghain would be in Denerim now that his daughter was a widow and fighting the Bannorn to remain Queen.

Devon also said that the wardens would help the family get to Gwaren. Devon looked around the room. "How about if we travel together through the Brecilian. We need to find Ari's clan if we can and remind them of their commitment to the Grey Wardens."

Leliana turned to Alistair. "There are some desperate people in town. People you called friend will turn you in for the bounty." She smiled at him. "And, I will get to travel with you for part of the way."

It seemed like Devon had stepped into Duncan's shoes out of necessity. In short order, a wagon was packed and the group was heading east on the darkened road to the Brecilian Passage and then on to Gwaren.

* * *

 _"_ _So, the Champion was once well respected in Lothering, despite the fact he was an apostate?" Seeker Pentaghast looked more impressed than confused._

 _"_ _Yeah. The Templar's good treatment of Alistair and the Hawkes really was more than the fact of Alistair's royal blood. Malcolm built the foundation of trust and service in every village they lived; however, eventually, the people would turn against them because of Chantry influence. So, they would have to move. They were in Lothering a long time. Both Bethany and Alistair continued to build the trust with their service … until survival against the darkspawn came along and trumped it all." Varric was starting to get tired. He could sense his storytelling slipping to dry and uninteresting. "Could we continue this tomorrow?"_

 _That question roused the Seeker from her thoughts. "Yes, yes, of course."_

 _"_ _Can I sleep in my own bed at the Hanged Man?" Varric stood and stretched._

 _After narrowing her eyes at Varric and thinking a moment, she said, "Yes, but there will be guards posted outside your door." She bent closer to Varric's face to make her next point: "Do not try to escape, dwarf. You would not like the treatment you would get if you do."_

 _"_ _Got it. See you in the morning." Varric wasn't surprised that he was escorted all the way to the Hanged Man. He saw Donnic and Bodahn in the shadows by Worthy's stall just before the stairs to Lowtown. Varric made a slight nod toward Lowtown and Donnic seemed to understand._

 _Varric had no intention of escaping, but he also had no intention of leaving the Champion uninformed. Tonight, he would write up what had transpired with the Seeker and leave it in his room at the Hanged Man for Bodahn to find in the morning. Bodahn would get it to Alistair who was hiding out in a cave on the Wounded Coast that they had taken from the Tal-Vashoth._

 _"_ _Don't try to rescue me! I'm fine." Varric wrote that at the end of his report. He prayed that Alistair wouldn't do something stupid, but Varric knew that wasn't a given._

* * *

 **AN:** Thanks for all reviews, favorites and follows! :) They make my week!

I've had some fun wrangling a good upbringing into Alistair. I think that upbringing is what makes him more confident right now instead of after a run-in with a fraudulent sister. However, the mage bits and finding out about his real parents bring back some of the insecure Alistair from time to time. Now, he's hunted for being an apostate _and_ a potential threat to the throne. Of all the countries in Thedas, other than Tevinter, I can see that the Ferelden Bannorn might just put a Theirin mage on the throne if he were competent AND the _last_ Theirin. Feisty bunch in the Bannorn.

 _Guest_ , :) back atcha! Thanks! I can use all the smilies I can get.

 _anesor_ , the Heartland cheese sentence was put in just for you! ;) Thanks for the review!

 _Judy_ , glad to see you still like my twisted mind. ;) Nice to hear from you!

 _The Invisible Pretender_ , thanks! I hope you continue to be interested. There will be a little bit more of _Origins_ mixed into _DAII_ next time. :)


	3. The Journey to Gwaren

**The Journey to Gwaren**

The cart rattled a bit on the dirt roads that comprised the Brecilian Passage. "Maker, I hope this thing holds together. It's never been driven more than a few miles to a neighbor's house or into town." Alistair was having a hard time keeping the draft horse on the trail. He, Carver and Devon took turns at the reins. Devon was clearly the best of the three.

Alistair's comment made Devon laugh. He had been trying to sleep in the bed of the wagon in back. "Yeah, then we might have to actually carry all our stuff. Poor Dobby. She's also not accustomed to hauling us and our stuff around every day." He climbed up to sit next to Alistair.

"Sorry, didn't mean to keep you awake." Alistair grinned sheepishly.

The wardens were a curious bunch. Ariel came from the Dalish. The group found her to be _completely_ representative of the harsh and brash Dalish of the rumors and tales … and yet, she was also very loyal to Devon and her fellow wardens. She already saved them from being raided by a Dalish clan ambush.

After showing the Dalish clan's Keeper the treaty signed by Dalish long dead, the Keeper made a promise to Devon: if the wardens could get Zathrian's clan to agree to such foolishness, then they would stay and fight with the wardens.

Ariel said she knew about Zathrian, and that knowledge didn't make her hopeful that the Dalish would aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight. Zathrian was an ancient, the only Dalish of late who had avoided the Quickening, avoided death. Consequently, his word carried a lot of weight with most of the clans.

So, they were on their way to find this Zathrian. Devon took a deep breath and stretched his back. "That's all right. There's something on your mind. I noticed it last night when we wardens were talking about what our plans were." Devon had become a friend. He was a noble who wasn't an ass … always a good first step. He'd also had a great deal of personal tragedy recently. The third night on the road, he told the story of his family's massacre at the hands of Arl Howe.

He was also damned perceptive.

"I've been feeling guilty about leaving Ferelden, Devon … and not because I just found out about my father. Ferelden is my home. I was raised here." Alistair chuckled. "I actually like the spirit and fierce independence of the people here."

Devon sighed. "Like it or not, you have royal blood, Alistair." He put up his hand to stop Alistair from commenting. "You have a duty to Ferelden that goes beyond even Loghain … and that duty is to stay alive." He slumped a bit. "My father always taught me and my brother Fergus that a Cousland always does his or her duty. My father failed in his duty to stay alive … ultimately, that meant he failed in all of his duties … to his family, to his vassals, to his country. My father was killed because he had a claim to the throne that Loghain and his progeny do not have." He sat up and put his hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Even as a mage, you have a claim to the throne that Loghain and his cronies don't have. Times change. There are more than a few who believe this country's continued independence will hinge on a Theirin sitting on the throne. Right now, Ferelden's undergoing a Blight. Only the Maker knows how this is going to end." He took a deep breath. "I hope you'll have a Ferelden to rule someday."

Ariel sighed. "The way you shems talk all the time it's a wonder you aren't all full of arrows. I keep oiling the wheels to keep them quiet. Maybe I need to tie your mouths shut, too." She pointed toward the right side of the road. "At some point, if their directions are still accurate, we're going to have to leave the road. You'll need to walk your beast then and hide the wagon."

Taosen, an elf mage originally from the Denerim alienage, chuckled. "Too bad there isn't any teleportation magic. Right, Alistair?"

"Right, like that wouldn't cause the Templars to throw a fit." Alistair sighed. He learned from his father that there was magic lost to the ages. The witch Morrigan, who was traveling with the wardens, could shapeshift. Alistair, Bethany and Taosen were all trying to learn it … much to Morrigan's frustration. Morrigan was sharp and abrupt … and very intelligent. Alistair had finally mastered shifting into an owl. No one was more surprised than Morrigan. Taosen was working on a shapeshifted mabari, but the ears always came out a bit too large and pointed. Devon's mabari, Dancer, was amused at the failures so far.

Bethany and Morrigan had become friends of a sort. Bethany's specialty was a falcon — very fast and very useful along these forest paths and trails. Morrigan's beast of choice was a bear, enhanced with the strength and cunning of a blighted bear. Morrigan wasn't a warden … had no desire to ever become a warden … but through her magic, she could "sniff out" the darkspawn as well as the new wardens could.

And then, there was Daldain, the dwarf. At first, Daldain was quiet and moody. Then, one night, he unloaded his heart. Alistair found out Daldain was a kindred spirit, sort of. He was the son of King Endrin Aeducan in Orzammar. His younger brother orchestrated the death of the heir, Trian, as well as framing Daldain for the deed. He ended the sad tale with, "I was impressed at Bhelen's cunning, but I still want to kill him. Duncan said that wardens are always welcome in Orzammar. We'll see when we have to go there to convince my father to honor the treaty."

Alistair had hoped two things would occur on this journey. First, he hoped he and Leliana might get closer, but it seemed that "good friend" was as far as Leliana wanted to go. She had other priorities. Second, he hoped he and Carver might get along better. Alistair knew he could count on Carver in a pinch, but Carver's day-to-day rhetoric remained surly. Traveling with four mages probably had a lot to do with it.

When Ariel gave the word, they turned off the main road. They put the cart's contents into backpacks and headed into the forest. Within minutes of turning off the main trail, Bethany's falcon swooped down and reformed into Alistair's younger sister. "There's a large camp about a mile ahead. We'll run into the hunters in half that distance."

Ariel took the lead. She knew Mithra, the hunter who told the group to halt. When it was established that everyone was traveling with the Grey Wardens, the suspicious looks and harsh tone gave way to begrudged respect. Alistair thought to himself, _I could get used to this._

However, the meeting with Zathrian didn't go so well. He showed everyone around the camp and gave the wardens an ultimatum: help his clan by bringing Zathrian the heart of some werewolf leader and he would agree to help the wardens.

 _Maybe traveling with the wardens wasn't all puppies and sunshine_ , Alistair amended to this earlier thought. _These elves … and probably the mages, dwarves and Arl Eamon … are going to want the wardens to work for their help … treaties be damned._ "How did you incur the wrath of a werewolf alpha?" Alistair had increasingly irritated the Keeper by interrupting with his questions.

Zathrian ignored Alistair. "Da'len, please tell your shem companions that this is not their discussion to interrupt."

"Just a min …" Alistair attempted to reply; however, a large shadow flew over the camp and landed nearby. It was a dragon. _Was_ a dragon. It became a female in red scale armor. "Wow, I want to learn how to become a dragon."

The woman stepped up. "How do you know I'm _not_ a dragon."

* * *

 _"_ _Bullshit. I told you I wanted the truth." The Seeker wasn't amused._

 _"_ _This is the story I was told, Seeker! I was told by Carver of all people. That boy never embellished anything." Varric took a sip of ale._

 _"_ _Fine … but if you tell me they all flew to Kirkwall on a dragon …" She put her hands on her hips._

 _"_ _Nothing quite so fanciful, I assure you."_

 _"_ _Continue…"_

* * *

The dragonlady laughed … more like cackled. "Well, well, what have we here? Morrigan?"

In unison, everyone turned toward Morrigan. "Mother, you really should stop with these overly dramatic entrances. The wardens are simply trying to convince the Dalish to honor their treaty."

"Asha'bellanar!" Zathrian went to his knee in front of the old woman.

"The last time I saw you, you were a decrepit old woman. This is a different look for you, Flemeth." Devon had a frown on his face.

"Flemeth? _The_ Flemeth?" Alistair had heard all the tales about the Witch of the Wilds.

"Names are pretty, but useless." Flemeth narrowed her eyes at Alistair. "You are he, are you not?"

"Yes, Mother, but Alistair won't be staying here in Ferelden … much to my relief." Morrigan looked more uncomfortable than … come to think of it, Alistair had never seen Morrigan uncomfortable. He couldn't blame her … with Flemeth for a mother.

"No." Flemeth took a step closer to Alistair and he really, really wanted to shift into an owl and fly away … but then, dragons probably ate owls. "No, you have a different path before you. Always remember, Alistair Theirin Hawke, no path is darker than when your eyes are shut. Remember that for yourself. Remind those around you."

Then the red-armored woman with her hair drawn up to look like dragon horns then turned her rather intense gaze toward Zathrian. "And, have you decided to honor your commitments?"

"We have a situation, Asha'bellanar, that needs resolution first." Zathrian's bluster fled in the face of Flemeth.

Flemeth looked around the camp. "So, the consequences of your ill-advised magic has come home to roost at last." She motioned around at the ill and dying Dalish elves. "Will you allow your own clan to die so you can live more years?"

Zathrian's assistant or apprentice or second-in-command spun to look at him in surprise. "What magic does she speak of, Keeper? You told us you avoided the quickening by staying clear of humans."

Flemeth cackled for a moment and glanced back at Alistair. "A pretty good example of what I told you." Then, she turned to the girl. "What is your name?"

"Lanaya, Asha'bellanar."

"Lanaya, your Keeper has lied to you and to your clan." Flemeth took a deep breath. "End this, Zathrian. End it now. There's a Blight in Ferelden. We don't have time for your grievances from a century ago. These wardens have other places to be."

"I don't know what you …" Zathrian was interrupted when a circle of werewolves emerged from the forest, led by a striking half-naked woman. She was lithe and beautiful … but the little flowers opening and closing on the vines holding up her breasts tended to draw Alistair's complete attention from some of the details of the conversation. He caught the main bits well enough.

The werewolves growled and snarled until the woman held up her hand. "Yes, Zathrian, it is time."

One of the werewolves walked up to an older elf. "Athras, it is me … Danyla … please make the pain stop."

Athras stormed up to Zathrian. "You told us that none of us had turned." He pointed back to the werewolf. "That is my wife, Keeper! That is Danyla! If you can save her, you must do it!"

Alistair could sense that Zathrian then realized he had been outplayed, but he wasn't going to give up easily. "I bound this spirit and cursed you humans for a good reason! You killed my son and raped my daughter! She killed herself rather than bear a mongrel child! I will not forgive you! I will not lift this curse!" He turned to Flemeth. "You speak of consequences? I have merely meted out the consequences to all humans for their actions."

The "mongrel child" comment made Alistair twitch a little. He could tell that Devon noticed.

"That … that was over a hundred years ago, Keeper." Lanaya looked at her Keeper with pity and sympathy … and revulsion.

For a moment it looked like Zathrian was going to turn on his First. Alistair stepped between them. "Wait!" A purplish gray translucent orb was circling Alistair's right hand.

"You human mages cannot stand against my magic!" Zathrian started some gestures indicating he was beginning a spell.

As Alistair's father taught him, most mages assumed an enemy without a blade would never touch them. That roles were always maintained in a battle. Enemies with weapons and armor would advance to harm you. Enemies with magic and bows would keep their distance. Zathrian, for all his years and experience obviously thought no differently.

Alistair grabbed Zathrian's free hand with his right hand. The orb left Alistair's hand and began to circle Zathrian's head. "No, maybe not, but this little spell will disorient you long enough if I trigger it." As if to punctuate what Alistair was saying, the werewolves started to growl and snarl while advancing a step or two. "Spirit, please keep your folk away. There are some things we need to know first."

Morrigan stepped up to Zathrian also. "This curse wouldn't end with your death, would it, old man."

The ancient elf couldn't help glancing up at the orb circling his head. "No, it would not. It would never end. Perhaps I should let them kill me! Perhaps I should end my life myself."

Alistair released Zathrian's arm and held his hands in a submissive stance. "The humans who did those horrible things are long dead. By extending your curse, you only cause more pain … you have become the monster you claim them to be."

"How dare you say this to me, shemlin! You cannot know what I went through …" Zathrian shook his staff in Alistair's face. "… what I go through every day thinking of what my children would have become!"

Alistair paused a moment and then said quietly. "I wonder. Would they have grown up with no mercy in their hearts? Would they have allowed the clan to die or turn into werewolves — something that seems to affect elf as well as human?" He turned his head to the side. "Would they be looking at you with the same horror as your clan does now?"

Devon whispered to Daldain, just loudly enough for Alistair to hear it, " _That_ … is leadership."

One of the larger werewolves snarled, "We kill him now, Lady!"

The spirit stopped the werewolf. "Swiftrunner, if there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how can we ask it of him?"

Alistair's words or the spirit's words seemed to give Zathrian pause. "If I end the curse, spirit, you will die as well."

The spirit turned to Zathrian. "You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me life. I have loved and sorrowed … felt pain and joy. I have lived long enough. I am ready to go."

Several long minutes passed while Zathrian stood stock still and thought. The only sounds were from the birds, the nearby halla and the horribly ill elves. Alistair readied a spell to incapacitate the old elf, but he didn't need it. "You shame me spirit. Perhaps it is time to end this."

Alistair watched as Zathrian went through a complicated ritual. He marked the ground at eight equidistant points. Then, he carried artifacts from his aravel and placed them at each point. In the middle of the construction, Alistair glanced at Flemeth. She was watching Zathrian with equal scrutiny. She caught Alistair looking at her. She simply nodded at him once. He assumed she meant that Zathrian wasn't about to kill them all. This ritual was completely unfamiliar to him. Elvhen magic. Alistair made a mental note to learn more about it.

As the sun was going down, Zathrian faced north and began chanting. It was a long ritual. It was dark by the time he was finished. Campfires and torches had been lit. With his final words, he drew the spirit inside the octagon and she began to chant along with him. There was no burst of light or sound. It ended in silence. As the song of the night forest began, both Zathrian and the spirit simply died. The elf crumbled to a pile of bone and ash. The spirit transformed into a beam of light that faded in a few moments.

The silence was broken by crying. Danyla had reformed into an elf. She, Athras and their daughter fell together with tears of joy. All around the camp, the werewolves transformed into humans. They quickly left, wanting nothing more to do with the elves. Alistair took a step to help them if he could, but was constrained by the hand of his mother. "They need to find their own way, son. They are free. The last thing they want is charity from you or any of the Dalish."

"She's right, Alistair." Devon and Lanaya walked up. "If they want help, they'll ask for it."

"And, if they ask, our clan with do whatever we can." Lanaya sighed. "He was a good Keeper, despite what you've just seen." She turned to Devon. "As for the treaty, we will honor it. Tomorrow, our scouts will go out and notify the other clans still here in the Brecilian that the Dalish will fight beside the Grey Wardens to end the Blight."

"Keeper Lanaya, do you know where the Sabre Clan is?" Ariel asked.

Oddly, Lanaya glanced toward Flemeth. "They have already gone north, da'len. I am sorry. I believe they're headed to Sundermount outside Kirkwall."

Ariel looked at Alistair. "You're going to Kirkwall. Will you take a letter to Keeper Marethari for me?"

"Of course." Alistair turned to Devon. "Can we leave in the morning?"

"Actually, the wardens cannot. It's a three-day journey to Gwaren and three-days back." Flemeth was standing right behind Alistair. Her voice made him jump. She walked in front of Devon. "You will need to go through the Bannorn to get to the mages or the dwarves since Lothering and the Imperial Highway are overrun." She smiled at Alistair. "I will see to it that they safely make it to Gwaren."

Devon frowned. "She's right, Alistair. We really should be about the business of ending the Blight."

"We understand. Thank you for your help … and friendship." Alistair grinned. "I expect to receive a letter from time to time. I guess just send it to Kirkwall, the Amell estate."

And, so, they parted ways with the Grey Wardens. The Hawkes gave the wagon and Dobby to the wardens — to use or sell or give to the werewolf/humans if they came across them — and went on foot for the rest of the journey. The wardens headed to recruit the mages, the dwarves and Arl Eamon.

The Hawkes began to make their way to Gwaren, with Flemeth's help.

However, it wasn't an easy three days. Flemeth pretty much left them alone, but they caught her dragon's shadow flying around from time to time. In the middle of the second day, they came upon a man and woman battling a group of darkspawn in an open meadow. The woman was a soldier. The man was a Templar. Without Bethany's and Alistair's magic, the pair would have died.

"Hold, apostate!" the Templar said when the battle was over.

"Well, the Maker does have a sense of humor." Bethany just shook her head and sighed.

"Wesley, they saved us," the woman said quietly.

Wesley stood his ground a moment longer and then took a deep breath. "You're right, Aveline. Until we get out of all this, you and I have an accord."

Carver narrowed his eyes. "I know you. You're Lieutenant Aveline Vallen. You helped us get away when Loghain deserted."

Aveline smiled. "I was glad to help. Loghain should hang for what he did."

Before she could say more, the ground started rumbling and Flemeth landed, reforming into her red armored self. "An ogre is on the way." She noticed Wesley begin to do something — probably a smite. She laughed. Wesley was petrified before he could do anything else. "Keep your man under control. We're going to need everyone." She turned back to Alistair. "I'll try to keep the hundred or so darkspawn with the ogre busy, but you'll need to handle the ogre. It's coming your way."

Alistair nodded and looked around. "Form a circle around Mother and Bethany. Carver?" He waited a moment until Carver nodded. "You're going to need to keep it off us along with Aveline and Wesley."

"Got it." Carver turned to Flemeth. "Let him go." Then, he grinned at Aveline. "She'll make sure he behaves."

Just before she shapeshifted, she dropped the spell on Wesley. His recovery was long enough for her to shift into her dragon and fly far enough away.

The battle was upon them before any more could be said or done. The ogre was huge. Carver even said it seemed to be larger than the ones at Ostagar. As much as they heard Flemeth's roars and saw her flames burn countless darkspawn, some still got through. It seemed like hours, but it was maybe thirty minutes. All the darkspawn lay dead. All the Hawke's survived as well as Aveline and Wesley … but Wesley had a dark secret.

Flemeth landed as Wesley fell. In some people, the Blight took days or weeks to appear. In some, it took much less time. Wesley was the second kind of person. He groaned as Flemeth said, "Before we move on, there is something we need to take care of."

Aveline resisted until Wesley asked her to end his life … better than a slow, painful death from the Blight. They performed a small, short funeral. Flemeth's flames made for a quick pyre. Her frost breath cooled the ashes instantly. Alistair helped Aveline gather the ashes in a small tin Leandra found in their things. "Would you like to come with us, Aveline?"

The woman hadn't shed a tear the entire time, but when Alistair asked that question, she began to weep. She nodded and simply motioned for them to move on.

By the middle of the third day, they crested a rise and could see the port town of Gwaren ahead. It seemed so serene … pretty as a picture. "I shall be leaving you here." Flemeth laughed. "Cities and I don't get along well." She reached into a side pocket and pulled out an amulet. "You have a letter to take to Keeper Marethari. In return for my help, I would like you to get this to Marethari as well."

Alistair took the amulet. It was warm to the touch and it hummed with magic. He drew his eyebrows together. "A phylactery?"

Flemeth allowed him to witness a moment of surprise. "I should have known you would sense what it was." She moved closer and looked deeply into Alistair's eyes. Finally, she quietly said, "Hurdled into the chaos, you fight …" She whispered the rest. "… and the world will shake before you."

No one else heard her comment. Alistair wanted to ask her what she meant, but she quickly reformed into the dragon and flew away. They left that evening on a ship called _Wavecrest_ and a two-week trip to Kirkwall.

Alistair would have a long time to ponder the meaning of Flemeth's parting words.

* * *

 _"_ _Flemeth. I should have guessed she would involve herself." Cassandra paced in front. "But it all seems so incredible."_

 _Varric shrugged. "You've heard the tale of the warden. I always wondered if maybe she was orchestrating all this shit … but Flemeth seemed to think that Alistair would be the one responsible." Varric sat back in his chair. "Maybe she was right."_

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you for all reviews, favorites and follows! I've always thought that Zathrian knocking his staff on stone was a bit too easy to end such a pervasive curse. ;) Also, no dead Carver/Bethany based on the choice of rogue/warrior/mage. Next week, we delve into the DAII story; however, the order will be different from the game. :)

 _The Invisible Pretender_ , ah yes, the vaunted throne of Ferelden. LOL … what a horrible, horrible job that would be with those wackos in the Bannorn! But, on the other hand, one never knows what the future holds. ;)

 _Judy_ , thanks for your kind words for _Alistair Hawke,_ for _What Could Go Wrong_ and for _What Have We Here_. I liked writing those stories. We'll have to see if I have it in me to put a hard stop on _What Have We Here_ , after I get done with this one. :)

 _Superstar Kid_ , welcome! Thank you for the words of encouragement! They really help. It's fun to play around in this world, skirting canon with freedom from game mechanics. I hope you continue to enjoy it. :)


	4. Arriving in Kirkwall

**Arriving in Kirkwall**

"Look, they aren't allowing anyone in." Aveline pointed to the guards on the dock and the growing group of people there.

Alistair and his family were bone-tired. The last couple of nights on the ship were not conducive to sleeping. Leandra put her hands to her temples. "That can't be right. We have family here. They have to let us in!"

"Let's go talk to that guard and find out." Alistair gave his mother a quick hug and stepped up to the city guard.

It was obvious that this guard's duty was to keep out _all_ the refugees. "Don't think you can bully your way in. Kirkwall is full. No more refugees are welcome here."

The conversation Alistair had with the man yielded a few bits of information: Kirkwall had, indeed, closed its doors to any more Ferelden refugees fleeing the Blight; some people were being let in if they could prove they had legitimate business in the city (and the coin to bribe their way in); the viscount was the governing power in name only — Knight-Commander Meredith of the Templars was the true power. They were able to size up the situation by a rather blatant statement of the guard: "Magic is to serve man, not rule him, and mages are better locked up where they don't hurt anyone."

Life in this city was not going to be easy.

Soon enough they were allowed to go to the courtyard and speak with Captain Ewald of the city guard … who was telling a group of mercs basically the same thing. Carver tried to explain that their uncle, Gamlen Amell, was in the city and a nobleman.

Ewald shook his head. "Gamlen … I've heard that name … but the Gamlen I know of doesn't have two coppers to rub together. If he comes out here, I'll let you …"

That was enough to make the mercs draw their swords. "What?! You're going to let them in?" A fight broke out. Alistair let Carver and Aveline do most of the work. Both he and Bethany had enchanted swords instead of staves and had learned to hide magic through the swings of their blades. In short order, the fight was over and the mercs were either dead or limping away.

"Thanks." Ewald took a moment to catch his breath. "Look, if it were up to me, I'd let you in, but I can't make that decision. I'll find your uncle and bring him out here."

Afternoon turned into night and Ewald was still standing in front of the gate. "Well, he's not going to find Gamlen tonight. Busy being all official." Alistair looked around and spotted a corner. He nodded toward it. "It's not all that safe there, but at least we wouldn't be out in the open."

Carver also looked around. "That corner would be better." He nodded to a corner across from the entrance to the city. "It's protected and we can see if Gamlen comes out."

"Good idea, Carver." Alistair picked up a couple of their bags and started walking that way.

Carver picked up two others and strode up next to Alistair. "I think I like _this_ you better, big brother."

That made Alistair laugh. "Because I agreed you had a good idea? That's all it took?" He elbowed his little brother. "If I'd known that sooner, I'd have let you make _all_ the decisions."

Carver frowned. "And, you had to go and ruin it." He started to say something else, but then sighed. "This isn't easy for you, is it. Knowing the truth about your real parents."

"Mother and Father _are_ my real parents. We _are_ the men and woman they raised. Those other people just popped out a kid and washed their hands of me. Thank the Maker." Alistair sat the bags down. Leandra and Bethany unpacked the bedrolls and they "claimed" their fifteen or so squares of stone in the courtyard of the Gallows to wait for Gamlen.

* * *

 _"_ _Did you know Gamlen Amell?" Cassandra was curious about the Amells now._

 _"_ _Yeah, at that time, the Merchant's Guild just knew him as the nobleman who couldn't recognize a good business investment if it bit him on the ass." Varric chuckled. "But, it turns out he had a reason for his desperate ideas." He shook his head. "I'll get to that later. For now, Ewald came into the Hanged Man that evening and asked me if I knew where 'a Gamlen Amell' was. Told me that some Ferelden refugees claimed he was kin."_

 _"_ _Did the city guard usually come to you about finding people?" The Seeker actually looked surprised._

 _Varric wasn't sure how much he wanted to admit about himself. "Not really. I had a permanent room at the Hanged Man. I told stories there and met a lot of people. Anyway, I told Ewald that I'd seen him. Gamlen usually frequented the Rose when he had the coin. He only came into the Hanged Man when he didn't." He laughed. "Funny story: just after I told Ewald that, Gamlen walked in and shuffled up to the bar and Ewald grabbed him. Gamlen's look of total fear got me curious. It was going to take serious coin to get anyone into the city and it was obvious Gamlen had none."_

 _Cassandra gave Varric a half-smile. "So, did you check up on the refugees from Ferelden?"_

 _"_ _I felt sorry for them … first for being refugees, second for being related to Gamlen. I went over to the Gamlen after Ewald left and told him about a … transport person who might be willing to front their entrance in exchange for some work out of them." Varric shrugged. "I didn't follow up any more right away."_

 _"_ _You indentured them to a smuggler?!" Cassandra was beginning to show a bit of strain from the constant surprises._

 _"_ _That's how it worked out. Turns out Gamlen already owed Athenril for a bad idea he'd talked her into …"_

* * *

"So, here's where I live now … where you live now, I guess." Gamlen closed the door and dropped a metal bar onto two hooks … his idea of a lock. The place was fairly large for a run-down shanty.

"Well," Alistair began. "We could …" He pointed into the room. "And, that … thing, there, would …" He sighed. "At least Mother's cooking will make it smell better than piss and cabbage."

"And here I thought you married a mage, and not a jester, Leandra," Gamlen growled.

While some of the folks who live in Lowtown take pride in what little they have, Gamlen had done absolutely nothing with the place. The elves in the alienage had nicer places. His "guest room" was small with a couple of bunk beds and a tiny table. His room was the largest in the place.

The front room had a small fireplace with a cooking hook, a "dining" table and a few chairs. There were crates and packing trunks everywhere. Alistair figured that Gamlen had to sell most of his stuff, for some reason. Over the ensuing weeks, it became increasingly apparent that reason was debt. Whether it was Gamlen's and Leandra's parents debt — as Gamlen claimed — or his own, would be determined soon.

Leandra looked like she was about to burst into tears; however, she quickly recovered. "We will just have to make this work." She pointed to the smaller room with the bunk beds. "Bethany, Aveline and I will stay in here. Gamlen, would it be all right for the boys to share your room?"

Gamlen opened his mouth to complain. Even with only knowing the man for minutes, Alistair _knew_ he was about to complain. But, Gamlen only said, "All right," before he went into his room to sulk.

Later that evening, after a small quiet dinner, everyone went to bed. From his bedroll, Alistair could hear his mother crying. Bethany and Aveline were trying to comfort her. Alistair wanted to go himself but knew that would just make things worse.

From his bedroll, Carver whispered. "Don't do it, Alistair. Let her get it out."

"i know." Alistair sat up. "We have to make this work, Carver. Tomorrow, we go on our first job for Athenril. Maybe we can do some side jobs to get some money to fix the place up." He smiled when Carver faced him and rolled his eyes. "The place in Lothering didn't look much better than this when we first got there."

Without turning in his bed to face them, Gamlen grumbled. "Are the two of you going to talk all night or can I get some sleep? I have some business deals to do tomorrow. Pray to the Maker they work out."

And … for the most part, things went pretty well for the Hawke family … not so much for Gamlen. They got "the lay of the land" and, unlike his uncle, everything Alistair handled turned to gold for Athenril.

Because they knew Loghain was looking for him, Alistair had been working on his shapeshifted mabari. Owls weren't such a good option in the city. When he walked the streets during the daytime, Alistair became Bluster, Carver's mabari. Carver named him. Bethany stayed in the house with Leandra until they had to work … but that was usually in the evening or nighttime. Bethany's falcon came in quite handy when trying to scout out an area. Alistair credited Bethany with a lot of their success.

When Alistair flew around in his owl form, all he could think about was eating … so many juicy rodents around! While out of the city as well, Alistair stuck to the mabari.

After a few weeks, Carver and Alistair had saved up enough to buy a bed for their mother. It was used, but still sturdy. They'd arranged with Bethany and Aveline to move the bunk bed into Gamlen's room … it was plenty big enough. That would give Leandra her own room and some peace.

They weren't counting on walking in on an Gamlen saying, "You know … maybe you could contribute more towards food."

"Gamlen! You sold my children into servitude! Servitude! They should be nobility!" Leandra's horrified look was mild compared to the anger on everyone else's face.

"It's hard to believe they left me nothing." Leandra was getting to the angry. "I was their daughter! The eldest!"

"Well, they were pretty steamed when you ran off with your Ferelden apostate … with Alistair born almost immediately. That sort of shoddy situation doesn't sit well with the _nobility_ , sister." Gamlen seemed to feel he had won the argument until Alistair reformed into himself and stormed up.

"And, you would know what sits well with the nobility, Uncle? I'd like to see that will. Where is it, Gamlen?" Speaking of pretty steamed, Alistair could have cooked an entire pot of seafood.

"It was read and it went in the vault. No one need look at it again." Gamlen's confidence was waning.

"I'd like to read it, too." Leandra wasn't going to back down.

"It's still in the vault," Gamlen said quietly.

"What daft bastard leaves something like that behind?!" Carver was joining in the "gang up on Gamlen" party.

"Who bought the estate, Gamlen? Was it the Reinhardts? We could …"

"It's no one you know, Leandra. You just need to let it go … all of you … just leave me alone!" He threw up his hands and walked out the front door.

Leandra noticed the headboard, rolled up thin mattress and side rails, now ignored on the floor. "What is that?"

Bethany explained the furniture upgrade while the rest helped Alistair rearrange the bunkbed and put the new bed together. Bethany and Aveline helped Leandra find the bed linens they had brought with them from Ferelden and made the bed up to look pretty good. When they were done, Alistair smiled at his mother. "Slowly but surely we'll get this place in shape despite Gamlen's lack of taste."

With tears of gratitude in her eyes, Leandra managed a chuckle. "I doubt Gamlen will approve of everyone moving in with him, but I'm going to bed before he comes back." She hugged her children and bid them good night.

Once Leandra's door was shut, Carver pulled Alistair, Aveline and Bethany into their new bedroom. "I know who bought the estate … but … I'm having a hard time hating Gamlen for it … being a caretaker … always in someone else's shadow. Mother even gave me her key … but finding the will just doesn't mean all that much to me." Carver shrugged.

His little brother was just being honest with his feelings, so Alistair chose not to be an ass. "You've always wanted some kind of connection. That's where we'll find it." He put his hand on Carver's shoulder. "Being an Amell is what you are … it's your birthright."

In the split second after Alistair realized he'd set himself up, he was pleased to find that Carver decided not to be an ass either. "It's full of slavers now. That's who has the estate."

Aveline put her hands on her hips. "Well, that's a good enough reason for me. That needs to change."

Bethany smiled at Carver. "Let's see if we can make it mean something to you, brother." They were twins and if anyone could make Carver see the light, it was his twin sister.

"There's an entrance from Lowtown. That's where this key works." Carver fished the key out of his belt pouch.

"Lowtown. Lovely. A mabari is closer to the stinky ground, you know." Alistair grimaced before he shapechanged into Bluster and they headed down into the undercity. They found the door, cleared out the slavers and found the will. Alistair opened it and they all read it at the same time.

"Bastard!" Aveline pretty much summed up everyone's feelings … even Carver's.

They returned to the house to find that Gamlen had also returned. He had awakened Leandra to complain about everyone moving into his "private" room. They both turned as the crowd from the estate "clearing" walked in. Alistair slowly closed the door and slipped the bar across it.

As he turned toward his mother and Uncle, he pulled out a sheaf of papers. "Lookie at what we found just lying around the Amell estate vault!" He narrowed his eyes at Gamlen. "We found the will."

Gamlen's face blanched and he swallowed hard.

Carver took the will from Alistair and waved it in Gamlen's face. "Grandfather left everything to us. Mother was to give _you_ a stipend!"

Gamlen turned back toward Leandra. In desperation, his retort was weak at best, "You were the one who always said, 'Love is more important than money.'"

"It is!" It was obvious that she was torn between what Gamlen said and what she just found out. "At least, I know now they weren't angry with me."

"You didn't even come to the funeral!" Gamlen was on a roll.

"The twins were a week old!"

"How long was I supposed to wait, Leandra?" The frustration was building on Gamlen's face.

Alistair looked at his feet a moment. "I don't know, Mother. If it weren't for the Blight, would we ever have come back?"

"I always thought we would." She smiled at them. "But, the three of you are Ferelden to your toes … so, maybe not." She turned to her brother. "I can petition the Viscount to see if we can get your house back, Gamlen."

Gamlen laughed. "You don't have the coin to even get an appointment with the Viscount, Leandra. You have to _be_ somebody to live in that house." After that, he stormed out again.

"Hmmm," Alistair mused. "That's twice in one night. We have to try ganging up on him more often."

Bethany handed Leandra a sack that clinked when Leandra took it. "Maybe not as much as you need to buy the estate, but this was in one of the chests. I doubt the dead slavers will need it." She nodded toward the door. "And, I don't think Gamlen needs to know you have it."

Alistair chuckled. "Mother can give him his first stipend out of it."

"Then, I shall have to get started first thing in the morning. For now, everyone, I'm going to go to sleep." She hugged her children again. "Thank you so much. I feel better than I have in weeks."

* * *

 _Cassandra chuckled. "It seems the Champion couldn't get away from being a noble no matter how hard he tried." She cocked her head to the side. "So, how long was it before you met the Champion in person?"_

 _"_ _Great timing, Seeker! I was just getting to that."_

* * *

 **AN:** Thanks for all reviews, favorites and follows! I really appreciate hearing from all of you. :) Unlike my other stories, I'm trying to write this one from Alistair's point of view solely (with the "interrogation" scenes from Varric's PoV). What do you think? Should I throw in a chapter now and again with what's happening in Ferelden?

 _Judy_ , as always, thanks for your encouragement. :)

 _The Invisible Pretender_ , I thought it might be fun to make at least one stop for poor Warden Commander Devon be short and successful. ;) Thank you for your continued support! :)

 _Elven-in-name_ , thank you so much for all your reviews! So, have you played DAII yet? You'll notice a great deal of "liberties" with canon. ;) If you haven't played it yet, sorry for the spoilers! I _knew_ Sabrae was spelled that way but just blanked! Thanks for the catch. As for "shimlin" … alas, typos happen. I hope you continue to enjoy my little "what if". :)

 _Superstar Kid_ , I really appreciate your kind words! Yes, some things will be quite different. Some won't. There was some dialog that I liked … and used/will use in the tale. Some I didn't like. Thanks! :)


	5. Varric Meets the Champion

**Varric Meets the Champion**

"Alistair, hold still!" Bethany would get frustrated with her older brother sometimes … usually when he acted like a child.

"But, that hur-urts, Beth-a-knee! Ow! Ow!" he responded in his best whiny voice. Alistair wasn't used to fighting dwarves and they were able to come at him from uncomfortable angles. One of the dwarves got a good shot at his butt.

"They came close to your brain, but fortunately, they missed anything too vital." Carver followed that with a laugh.

"Oh, ha ha ha. You're so funny. I bet all the girls swoon at your glib humor," Alistair said into his crossed arms that his face was buried into. "Ow!"

The cargo they were supposed to have an easy time picking up turned into a brawl for no good reason. They yelled two words, "The Hawke!" and then attacked.

"Those were the weirdest Carta guys I'd ever seen … not that I've known a lot of Carta guys." Aveline was helping Bethany. "They went right for you three. I couldn't get one of them to look at me." She chuckled. "Made it easier to come at them from behind."

"Good," Alistair grumbled. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one gotten from behind."

"It was creepy. I think I heard one guy say that his 'master' demanded our blood. And, not just Alistair's … all our blood." Carver shuddered. He stood up from the dead dwarf he was searching. "And, the gems aren't on any of them."

From the beach next to the campsite, a weak voice spoke, "I have the gems … I'll give you four extra if you escort me back to Kirkwall." After a few tense moments, a dwarf stepped out from behind a large stand of tall beach grass. He told them that he'd barely had time to hide. He introduced himself as Javaris Tintop.

The "Carta" who attacked Alistair and company were crazy. They had killed all of Javaris' guards while he ran and hid. Then, they just waited around for the Hawkes to arrive. They didn't even try to look for Javaris, who sounded oddly insulted for being forgotten.

The trip back to town was uneventful and Athenril gave them twenty gold coins for the extra gems. She was going to give them ten, but Javaris insisted they were worth ten times that much. Happy to have any extra coin, Carver suggested a round at the Hanged Man to celebrate.

The place was packed. The regulars were crowded around Varric, the storyteller. Alistair assumed he was owner of the place because Carver told him the dwarf was almost always around. This was only the second or third time that Alistair had come here — the first as an upright male human. Unfortunately, his timing to appear as a human was really bad that night.

As they looked for a table, Varric seemed to quickly end his story and walk their way. "Hey, you're from Ferelden, right? I have a private room upstairs. I'll buy you a round and tell you a story about the Blight I just heard."

At first, they were a bit leery of the invitation, but Aveline soon spotted two men showing around a handbill with a drawing on it. She was the first to get that Varric was offering them a place to hide. As soon as they walked into Varric's room, he quickly closed the door. "There are two bounty hunters downstairs looking for Gamlen … something to do with you, Alistair."

"I didn't know you knew me." Alistair was surprised at first. But, it all became clear when Varric explained that he put Gamlen onto Athenril. "So, we have you to thank for ten more months of working for next to nothing?"

"Yeah … and I should ask for a finder's fee from Athenril. I've heard you've been doing really good work." Varric went to a cupboard and took out a bottle and a bunch of glasses.

"You could pay us for work, too." Bethany grinned.

"Sunshine, I wish I could, but my brother has all the family money tied up in an expedition into the Deep Roads." He started to pull the cork out of the bottle. "You know, maybe you could help out, but not right away. Bartrand won't be ready to go for a few more months. Maybe, since she's doing so well now, I can talk Athenril into letting you guys go early."

Aveline held up her glass and waited until Varric noticed. Once the bottle was opened and the dwarf was pouring out the wine, she asked, "You want to hire us as guards or something?"

Everyone heard a scuffle outside the door, but Varric didn't seem to pay it any attention. "We won't need more guards. What we need are partners to fund it."

Alistair almost spit out his swallow of wine and narrowed his eyes. "We can hardly make ends meet as it is, Varric. And, the very night we get a bit of coin, you mention an 'opportunity' to partner on an expedition into the Deep Roads … during a Blight." He looked around. "It's dark in that hole and all the Maker's nasty little creatures live there."

"I couldn't agree more with that description," Varric grumbled. "Hey, I don't want to take your last coin. Keep what you have and set aside a little from side work. I know of jobs around Kirkwall. I'll square it with Athenril …" A knock at the door made Varric pause. He motioned for Alistair to go into the bed's alcove and hide. He opened the door. "Corff? What is it?"

The bartender, Corff, slipped inside. "That guy … Gamlen … came in and those two bounty hunters were on him right away. They just dragged him into the room across the hall."

Bethany stood and grabbed her stuff. "We need to go save him."

Carver stepped up to the door. "Wait, sister, he might have found out. He could be turning Alistair in." As a mabari walked out of the alcove and barked loudly, even Carver laughed. "Okay, Bluster says we go."

Corff and Varric gave each other a look and then shrugged. Varric reached around the desk and pulled up the fanciest crossbow any of the Fereldens had ever seen. "Looks like we might need Bianca."

Aveline scoffed. "You named your crossbow?"

"And, why not! Isn't she a beauty?" Varric grinned as he opened the door and motioned for Carver — and Carver's big two-hander — to go first.

One of the voices inside the room said, "We know Maric's bastard is staying with you … tell us where to find him and we'll let you go with only being knocked out for a while!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about! My sister and her children are visiting, that's all!" That was all Gamlen got out before the group outside the room heard the smack of a slap on a face.

* * *

 _"Who told the bounty hunters about Gamlen?" Cassandra was pretty sharp when it came to details. Part of that Seeker training, Varric guessed._

 _"Turned out it was the guard they'd run into first on the dock in Kirkwall. He didn't know about the Maric's bastard part, but he told them that one of the families from Ferelden was looking for Gamlen." Varric chuckled. "Apparently, the guy was pissed at Alistair's questioning his authority and going over his head."_

 _"I see … Go on."_

* * *

Carver kicked in the door while Bluster ran in and knocked down the man yelling in Gamlen's face. There were several men in the room in addition to the two questioning Gamlen. Bethany froze one in his tracks. "Bluster! Just keep him down until we tell you to tear his throat out." Carver sneered at the wide-eyed fool on the floor. "Gamlen, you okay?" The other men just put up their hands.

Gamlen's eyes were pretty wide as well. "I … I … I think so. Do you know what these men are talking about?"

Varric picked up a flyer on a table and handed it to Gamlen. "Have you ever seen this guy?"

Carver and Bethany glanced at it and shrugged. Bethany said, "I've never seen him. Carver?"

"Yeah, I saw him. He got off the boat with us." Carver put the point of his sword under the chin of the man on the ground while Bethany renewed her ice spell on the other one. "But, I want some of that gold if I'm going to tell _you_."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?!" The man's eyes kept darting from Carver to Bluster's bared fangs. "You … you could just be trying to get rid of us."

"Coin first, then I talk." Carver was pretty good at the intimidation thing … especially with a hundred-pound mabari helping out.

The man slowly reached down toward his belt. Bluster's low growl made the man's hands shake just a bit. He grabbed a large pouch and tossed it up … into Carver's face. Then, he made the mistake of grabbing his dagger while yelling, "Kill them!" Bluster tried to bite down on the man's arm, but the guy was fast and the blade dug deep into Bluster's shoulder.

The other man unfroze at that moment and pulled his sword as the other three attacked.

The fight was short. Stupid bounty hunters thought they could overpower two tall, young fighters, a mage and a mabari.

Bluster shifted into Alistair. "Aaaarrgh! That hurt! First, my ass and now my shoulder. Bad day."

Varric froze … and then laughed. "I wondered where the dog came from! That was great! If you can't make it as a smuggler, you have a future as an entertainer." While Bethany was closing Alistair's new wound with magic, Varric opened the door to let Corff's men haul off the bodies.

They all reconvened in Varric's room … with ale and food. Varric was jovial and friendly until the barmaids left and he closed and bolted the door. He walked directly up to Alistair and waved the blood-smeared handbill. "Not a very good likeness, but good enough to my suspicious mind. _Maric's bastard?!_ "

Alistair sighed and slumped in his chair. "And here I thought this night couldn't get any worse."

"I'd like an explanation about that one, too. I thought Malcolm Hawke was your father." Gamlen downed his first mug of ale rather quickly.

Aveline calmly took a bite of her sandwich. "So, you're not an Amell noble … but you are heir to the throne of Ferelden … that is, if you weren't a mage." She grinned. "You do keep things interesting, Alistair."

"Think I'll just stay in Bluster's form," Alistair mumbled.

"Yeah, well, that might be a good idea." Varric leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "In fact, getting out of town for a while might be a better idea. But, for now, talk."

Alistair looked to Carver and Bethany who both nodded … so, he told the whole sordid story, ending with, "I've only known a month or two myself." He looked directly at Varric. "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone … ever. Trust me. I'm not going to start a war for the throne of Ferelden."

Varric laughed. "I'm a storyteller and you're gagging me on the best story I've heard in months?" Then, he got serious and sighed. "But, yeah, I can see why you'd want me to keep quiet. Okay … I promise … for now."

"Mother and father never mentioned it to me and Carver, either." Bethany squeezed Alistair's shoulder just enough for Alistair to wince a bit. "But, Alistair will always be my big brother. I don't care what the truth is."

"Sounds like something Leandra would do." Gamlen shook his head. "She always took in the strays." Then, he frowned. "Even a stray who could be a dog."

"Gamlen! He could have left you to die in there, you know." Bethany was red-faced angry. "All you've done is berate and complain. You should be more grateful."

Gamlen looked at Carver. "Thank you for the rescue." He glanced at Alistair. "Handy having a mabari guard dog like that."

Alistair looked at Aveline and raised his eyebrows, indicating it was her turn to make his life miserable.

Aveline looked around the room and ended with Alistair. "I've only known you a short time, Alistair, but, in that time, I've seen you defuse tense situations a number of times." She sent a glare toward Gamlen. "Usually, due to something your uncle has said or done. I've seen you defend your family and friends … even getting injured time and again, like tonight. I've seen you put up with all our bullshit … with grace … and what could pass as humor."

"Ouch." Alistair put his hand over his heart in feigned pain.

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "But, I've never seen you turn coward and run. The real issue with these bounty hunters is that Loghain and his daughter will pay any price to destroy our country. And, there's not a damned thing we can do about that right now." She took a sip of ale. "Even if you weren't of royal blood, I would protect you from any sniveling bounty hunter Loghain sends after you to the best of my ability." She took a deep breath. "In fact, I would bend knee to you as monarch, if such a thing were possible."

The room was quiet for several minutes. Alistair was touched by Aveline's words. He didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to say something and then decided that wasn't the right thing to say. After trying a few times, he just smiled.

"Well, at least I lived long enough to see him speechless. Well done, Aveline." Carver's words were playful and not snide. "I've told you already, you're my big brother … no matter who's in your blood."

Bethany's eyes were teary. All she did was give Alistair a hug, but they both turned when Gamlen stood up. "Look, I know I say things wrong sometimes."

"A lot of times," Bethany mumbled.

Gamlen sighed. "I will say this once, boy. You've done right by my family … your family. You count on them and they count on you. That's what I'd always heard about families … it's a good thing you weren't raised here in Kirkwall." He huffed. "Well, you'd be in the Gallows, if you'd been raised here in Kirkwall." He shook his head. "Maker, let's hope the Templars don't hear about this." He headed toward the door. "I'm going home."

When Gamlen said that, everyone jumped up. "Mother!" and "Leandra!" was voiced by appropriate persons in the room when they realized they'd left her all alone and it was getting pretty late. Varric tagged along as they ran to Gamlen's house and burst in the door.

Leandra jumped up and dropped the book she'd been reading. "Maker's Mercy! You scared me to death!"

They all took turns explaining what had happened that evening, ending with Varric asking, "I'd love to know how you got to be mother to the heir of the Ferelden throne, Mistress Hawke."

Leandra narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

They could all tell that Varric was embarrassed because of the bright red hue of his cheeks. They weren't covered by a beard, so it was more than obvious. He introduced himself and explained why he was along.

"The Deep Roads?!" She turned to Alistair. "You're not actually considering that, are you?"

Alistair turned toward Varric. "Well, I don't know yet. Why is your brother so hot to go? What's he after?"

"Bartrand is many things, but he's not stupid. He's careful about checking out information. He got word of a very old … very ancient … thaig. It's deeper than any thaig known to date." Varric shrugged. "You probably haven't heard about all the expeditions that have come back in the past few years … loaded down with gold and priceless artifacts. But, there have been some very wealthy men made from those expeditions." He motioned toward Alistair. "Loghain has sent any number of bounty hunters after Alistair. If Alistair were wealthy, Loghain couldn't touch him. Sad to say, money is the best protection Alistair could have right now … from Loghain and from the Templars."

"He has a point, Mother. And, I would love to see you in that estate again." Alistair came to sit on the edge of the table next to his mother's chair.

"I can't tell you all what to do anymore, but, please, Bethany, don't go along!" Leandra got up and took her daughter's shoulders.

Bethany sent a look to both her brothers. Alistair could tell she wanted to go along but couldn't turn down their mother. "It wouldn't hurt to have one of us stay behind with Mother, Bethany."

Varric interrupted. "We have a few months to make those decisions. For one thing, Bartrand needs to find a good entrance."

"He doesn't have an entrance yet?!" Carver sat down and sighed. "But, you're right. It's too far in the distance to take too seriously.

"Yeah, I think a few weeks out of town is what we need right now … at least, what I need right now." Alistair glumly sighed and put his hands in his pockets. He felt the amulet and pulled it out. "Hey, we still need to take this to Sundermount to that Dalish clan."

"Along with Ariel's letter." Aveline pulled a folded parchment out of her backpack. "I don't know how I got in charge of it."

Bethany laughed. "Don't you remember? Ariel said that Alistair would likely lose it."

"Right!" Aveline smiled and put it back in with her stuff.

Alistair turned toward Varric. "So, you said you had a story about the Blight. Was that true?"

"Yep! But, it's a sad tale." Varric waited for everyone to find a comfortable place to sit and told the tale of Warden-Commander Devon Cousland and Redcliffe. "After fighting off the risen dead all night, the wardens and Bann Teagan slipped into the castle the next morning. You see, Teagan had a key to a tunnel into the castle. Their foray inside began poorly as they found a dead man in a cell. He looked to have been torn apart by a trio of skeletons standing around a battered down door. Sadly, the warden mage recognized the man as a friend of his from the Circle."

Alistair stood up. "Was his name Jowan?"

"Yeah … what, do you know _everyone_ in Ferelden?" Varric tried not to, but he looked surprised.

"No." Alistair looked crestfallen.

"Was he the mage you went to find?" Bethany held her brother's hand.

"Yes, he was a blood mage and escaped the tower before they made him Tranquil. After Jowan and Ser Irminric left for the Tower, Ser Bryant told me the story." Alistair looked at Carver. "Remember? Taosen told us he knew him and that he wasn't a bad man … just a confused one." Alistair motioned to Varric to go on.

"Wait … you worked with the Templars in Lothering?" Varric was going to get as much information as he could … to store away, no doubt.

"Oh, did I forget to mention that almost everyone in Lothering knew about my progenitors except me?" Alistair frowned. At Leandra's cocked head, he added, "Sorry, Mother … it's a tale for another time, Varric."

Varric clapped his hands. "Okay! So much for the harried apostate constantly on the run from the Templars."

"You've already started a story about Alistair?" Carver interrupted at the same time that Alistair groaned.

"Don't worry, Junior. You're in it too." Varric grinned.

"I hate it when you call me that." Carver frowned and crossed his arms.

Varric just grinned. "I know."

"I hate _you_ , dwarf."

"Anyway, back to Redcliffe …" The dwarf told about the trail of battles with skeletons … undead who were once friends and villagers and staff of the castle. It all ended when they reached the audience chamber … and found a young boy sitting on a throne with a bedraggled woman beside him. "The boy was the Arl's son, Connor, and the woman was the Arlessa."

"The boy was a mage?" Bethany has a horrified look on her face."

"Yep … and his mother hired an apostate … Jowan … rather than see her son go to the Circle." Varric shrugged and a small yawn escaped his lips. "Maker! I'm so sorry to keep going on when it's so late!"

Alistair grinned. "Cheap trick, storyteller … finish."

"There's only one way to deal with the abomination the boy had become." Varric shrugged. "The Arlessa tried to plead with Teagan and Cousland, but it had to be done … and wardens always do what needs to be done, right?"

Bethany jumped up. "They didn't need to kill him! They could have gone to the Circle and gotten lyrium and a group of mages to let someone go into the Fade to kill the demon!"

"I guess no one there knew that, Sunshine." Varric looked sad as well.

"Taosen was a Circle mage! He should have known better!" Poor Bethany was beside herself.

Alistair stood and held Bethany's shoulders. "He had just passed his Harrowing, remember? They probably hadn't let him in on all the juicy secrets yet." Alistair turned back to the group with a frown. "Now, Morrigan … she probably knew and just kept her mouth shut because Devon didn't ask her directly."

Bethany shrugged out of Alistair's grip. "Damn the Chantry and the Circle to the Void. Damn Morrigan, too." She went to sit next to her mother … almost exactly how she used to sit at her mother's side when she was an upset little girl.

"What about Arl Eamon?" Aveline tried to move on.

"As it turned out, the mage was hired by Loghain to poison the Arl. No one knows if the risen dead were from the mage or the abomination Connor." Varric had to pause for Aveline to throw a dagger into the wall.

"Loghain again! Will no one kill that man?!" Aveline started to reach for another dagger but Alistair was able to ease it back into her boot.

"So, Arl Eamon was killed by Loghain?" Carver looked angry enough to start throwing things, too.

"Eh, no. Loghain didn't count on Connor making a deal with the demon to keep his father alive. Fortunately, when the wardens killed the abomination, the Arl didn't immediately die." Varric shook his head. "Here's the wacko part that no one will ever believe if I tell it: Arlessa Isolde had sent Redcliffe's knights on a quest to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Well, that's not so unbelievable. The woman was desperate. The unbelievable part is that the _wardens_ took up the quest!"

"You know, people should be lining up to help the wardens, but it seems they all just want favors done first." Carver frowned as he sat down … without realizing he sat on the other side of their mother's feet. Alistair smiled at the scene.

"They had to go to Denerim to find the famous Chantry scholar, Brother Genitivi, who had found evidence of where to look." Varric stood. He really was getting tired.

"Denerim?!" Alistair's smile faded. "Right into the den of the monster?"

"Yeah, well, most of the common folk still believe it'll take wardens to end the Blight. Even though Loghain's a hero to Ferelden, many think he's off his nut about wanting to blame the wardens for Ostagar. They were safe enough in Denerim as long as they didn't go knocking on the palace door." Varric nodded at Aveline. "There are a number of soldiers like Aveline who were at Ostagar and attest to Loghain's timely retreat."

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." Alistair was still frowning.

"So, Genitivi was gone, but his research was still there. Arlo, my buddy at the Gnawed Noble, overheard them talking about going to some village called Haven, stopping at the Circle on the way. Cousland put a time limit on the search because the Blight wasn't going to wait forever. They would give it six weeks total, including travel time … and then back to fighting the Blight _without_ Eamon's support. Arlo sent me the details of what he heard." He shrugged. "That's all I know so far. And, now, I'm tired and I'm going home to bed. Let me talk to Athenril about the time off and ask around about the Dalish clan on Sundermount … not that I think I'll have a chance to find them."

Alistair walked Varric to the door and stepped outside with him. "Varric, thank you. I can't guarantee we'll go with you and your brother into the Deep Roads, but we'll give it proper consideration, I promise."

Varric looked at Alistair a bit oddly. "You're what I call 'an interesting character', Alistair. If it's all right, I'd like to travel with you to Sundermount."

"Certainly! The more people between my butt and the sharp pointy things, the better!" Alistair waved the dwarf good-bye and stepped back inside. "Varric wants to go with us to Sundermount."

"Beth, are you staying with Mother?" Carver looked at his twin who nodded that she would. "Varric's no replacement for Bethany, but at least it's another body."

"If it's all right, I think I'd like to stay behind with Leandra while Bethany goes with you. There are some daytime jobs with the city guard that I'd like to look into." Aveline grinned. "Who knows? Maybe they'll hire me after Athenril's time is done."

Leandra stood. "You know, I should argue that I can take care of myself, but I admit that I'll feel better with one of you here in the evenings. Especially if I'm going to be making myself a nuisance to Seneschal Bran in the Viscount's office."

* * *

 _"Bethany was right about the Ferelden Circle." Cassandra paced. "They have always been inconsistent in how they deal with things, but no one wants to replace their grandfather figure, Irving." She put her hands on her hips. "Taosen should have never been given to the wardens if he was newly Harrowed."_

 _Varric's stomach rumbled._

 _Cassandra laughed. "I'll arrange for some lunch."_

 _"Seeker, when I've told you everything … are you going to let me go?" It was a question that had been bothering Varric._

 _She stopped at the door and turned slowly. "If I continue to believe that you are telling me the truth, I will let you go."_

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you for all reviews, favorites and follows! Thanks, _anesor_ , for the favorite on a story I'm just getting started on! :) Sorry to miss last Sunday. It seems that this site and Safari don't always get along. It wouldn't load the chapter. I ended up downloading Firefox's web browser to get a chapter up this Sunday. :|

 _Judy_ , glad you're enjoying this tale! Thanks! :)

 _The Invisible Pretender_ , thanks for the review! Hope you enjoyed the meeting of Varric and Alistair. :)


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